Free Iris in Bloom: Take a Chance, Book 2 by Nancy Warren Page A

one’s the boss of him.” Not that he knew much about architecture but it was kind of like having royalty or a pop star or something in the family. He kind of liked that nobody made a big deal of it.
    “I’m sorry you couldn’t meet him,” Jack said.
    Daphne Chance breezed in to announce that dinner was all set up on the dining table and for everyone to help themselves and sit wherever they could find a spot.
    “Iris,” she said, “You go first.”
    “Oh, no, really.”
    “You have to, Dear. You’re the birthday girl.”
    With a helpless shrug, she left him and headed for the buffet table. Since his own mother would have his hide if he took food ahead of anyone female or older than him, Geoff waited. He didn’t mind. It was nice to have an opportunity to see her home, her family and friends.
    Daphne appeared and took the chair Iris had vacated. “She’s a published author, you know,” she said as though she were aware that he was watching her daughter.
    He dragged his attention from the way that dress fit Iris, the way it emphasized some very nice curves.
    “Iris? An author?” She’d never mentioned it. Interesting.
    “Yes. She was published in a couple of prestigious magazines.”
    “Really? I didn’t know that.”
    “That’s Iris for you. She always hides her light under a bushel.” She shook her head fondly. “So you haven’t read any of her stuff?”
    “No. But I’d like to.”
    She grinned at him as though they were conspirators. “Come with me.” She led him out of the main living area and into a library/den/study/sewing room bursting with books and magazines and board games. Two desks and two computers sat on a long desk that looked like a very long plank of wood with some home made legs supporting it. He could imagine the Chance brood doing homework in this room.
    Daphne went to one of the overcrowded bookshelves and she pulled out a copy of Atlantic Monthly , bound in clear plastic to protect it.
    “Iris was published in the Atlantic Monthly ?”
    She nodded. “She’s very good.”
    He flipped to the page. Barely got to start reading “Gingerbread Chess,” by Iris Chance, when Daphne was handing him a photocopied version, clipped with a staple that had gone in crooked.
    “Take it with you.”
    “Thanks.” He’d love to sit quietly and read Iris’s story to the end, but he was at a party, so he folded the pages neatly and slipped them into his pocket.
    He’d only read a couple of paragraphs and already he was fascinated, about what it revealed about the author as much as the quality of the prose.

Chapter Nine
     
    Even though it was Iris’s birthday, as Geoff watched the family dynamic he noticed that when she was with her siblings and her friends, she did more listening than talking.
    And when he was near oftentimes she was either listening to complaints or fears or problems or offering advice.
    He was helping himself to seconds when he caught sight of a pencil sketch that showed a much younger Jack Chance, but the subject clearly was Jack Chance. He had long hair in the sketch and seemed so peaceful he could be sleeping. The piece was signed, Daphne Naigle. It was dated 1976.
    “She drew that the day we met,” Jack Chance said, pausing beside Geoff. “I insisted on having it framed and hanging it here where I can see it every day. Reminds me of what a lucky man I am.”
    “How long was it before you knew…” He didn’t know how to end the sentence without sounding like a sentimental fool.
    “Before I knew she was the one? The love of my life?” Iris’s dad clearly had no issues about sounding like a romantic fool. “Let’s see. I climbed on a Greyhound bus north of San Francisco. Saw Daphne right away. By the time we got to Portland, probably, I knew.
    “You fell in love within hours?”
    The older man grinned. “Minutes if you want to know the truth.” He sent Geoff a look that suggested he saw more than Geoff wanted him to. Like he was sizing him up as a